The title is the first lie: it doesn’t tell anything about his private life; he hardly mentions his wife and son. And why “My”? This book is written not by Ford, but Samuel Crowther, a journalist, while Ford was at the highest point of his career as businessman and engineer.
This book is not written with the purpose of selling more cars: Ford hates advertising, he thinks that a product should be sold because of its quality and that advertising conceals the seller’s or manufacturer’s insecurity.
This book doesn’t mention Ford’s failures, neither the business nor the political ones. It doesn’t mention his war against trade-unionist movement and doesn’t tell that he recruited professional fighters to face the… “disturbing” workers.
It doesn’t talk about a lot of things, because the purpose of this book is to justify the mass–production, not to tell a private life; to specify wich position workers should hold, not to inspire a worker to become a company owner.
On the other hand, I took this book because I hoped to find something inspiring, something enlighting about success after failure, or about fear fighting.
Nothing of this.
I think, that if I would meet Henry Ford now, I would not like him.